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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26895238">What a Wicked Thing to Do</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyrawinter/pseuds/lyrawinter'>lyrawinter</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>All the Starks are alive, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Feelings, Mutual Attraction, Smut, There’s a flashback of Joffrey trying to assault Sansa but Petyr arrives in time</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:20:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,965</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26895238</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyrawinter/pseuds/lyrawinter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There, sitting in an armchair, was a man she’d seen many times. A man she’d talked to. She’d even gotten in his car once.</p><p> </p><p>The man uncrossed his legs and rested his forearms on his knees, slowly, and Sansa swallowed, trying to keep her eyes on his face. His lips curved then, as if he knew the effect he had on her. He was wearing a black suit, and a pale blue T-shirt that matched his eyes. He’d always been handsome, but now he looked even more handsome. The dawn sunlight streamed into the room through the window, and Sansa thought she’d like to capture this instant. But the sunlight was fleeting. She would need to work at this exact hour during several days to capture this instant.</p><p> </p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Petyr Baelish/Sansa Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>65</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I was brainstorming with the prompts given for the agweek, trying to come up with an idea for a ficlet when this popped up in my head. The title is taken from the song <i>Wicked Game</i> </p><p>English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes. I hope you enjoy it! :-)</p><p> </p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Painting naked people wasn’t obscene. Sansa already knew it when she got accepted to the Westeros Art College, one of the most prestigious art colleges in the world, so she nodded in agreement when the professor of the Nude Model Art Class said it on the first day of class. Of course it wasn’t obscene. There was nothing sexual when a model took off their clothes and posed for an entire class while the professor walked around the classroom, watching their students work on their paintings and giving them advice on how to improve their craft. There was nothing ominous in the atmosphere, nothing secretive or creepy.</p><p>Sansa had seen many models over the past fours years: men and women of different ages and with different body types. But her heart had never quickened nor had she ever felt a flutter in her stomach while watching them. She’d never blushed either. She could appreciate the beauty in every one of them, the aesthetic, but it was like admiring a landscape. </p><p>Her parents hadn’t been very pleased at first when she told them she wanted to be a painter. Ned Stark worked for the Lannisters in the largest tech company of Westeros. He could have found her a position in the company. But Sansa had refused. She loved art and she wanted to turn it into her profession. Besides, she knew Joffrey would end up working for the company as soon as he finished his degree in Business administration and she wanted to avoid him as much as possible. When she was in highschool she’d had a crush on him, but after a few dates with him she’d realized that he wasn’t a good guy. He seemed to believe that he was a king, or rather, a tyrannical ruler. Though he’d never used his physical force against her, sometimes she’d felt scared around him. No, she didn’t want to be anywhere near him. </p><p>Four years had passed since she got accepted to the Westeros Art College. Now Sansa was 22, and she had an art degree. She specialized in oil painting. One day she’d have her own painting studio but for now she lived and worked in Margery’s house, in the outskirts. Margery had rented Sansa two rooms when she started college: one to sleep and the other one to paint. Margery didn’t mind that Sansa painted naked models in her house. In fact the idea seemed to delight her. </p><p>“It’s so exciting. Imagine one of those men fell in love with you. Wouldn’t that be romantic? The model and the painter.”</p><p>Every time Margery said that Sansa just shook her head laughing. </p><p>“You’ve watched too many movies, Marg,” she always told her.</p><p>“Come on, Sans, you live like a cloistered nun. When are you going to date someone?”</p><p>“I don’t live like a cloistered nun,” she always protested. She wasn't going to date the first man that showed up in her door. After her experience with Joffrey, she wanted to be cautious.</p><p>Of course, Margaery was never satisfied with that answer. Her friend had tried to introduce her to several guys, but Sansa had always refused to have a blind date. Where was the magic to meet someone by chance and feel an instant connection? The first time she’d spoken these words aloud, Margery had rolled her eyes.</p><p>“Now who has watched too many movies?” </p><p>Well, perhaps those things only happened in fiction, but Sansa liked to think otherwise. </p><p>She was aware that Margaery hadn’t given up, and that she was actively trying to play matchmaker, but Sansa had never expected her friend would go as far as to set a date in her own house.</p><p>She was wrong.</p><p>One day, Margery showed up when Sansa was cleaning the room she used as her painting studio. The gleam in her eyes immediately put Sansa on alert.</p><p>“What’s up?”</p><p>“Nothing,” Margery said in an innocent tone. She leaned against the doorjamb and smiled. “I just found someone interested in participating in your mythological collection.”</p><p>Sansa had started this collection when she left college. It was an ambitious collection: she wanted to paint every Olympian God. So far she’d painted Zeus, Ares, Hephaestus, Hermes and Poseidon. </p><p>Margery’s smile widened.</p><p>“He’d said he’d like to be Hades,” she added.</p><p>“Marg...” </p><p>“Don’t worry, I told him that you’d need him to remove his clothes.”</p><p>Sansa didn’t like her choice of words. She made it sound ominous. Before she had time to process the information, Margaery spoke again:</p><p>“He is here.”</p><p>“What?” The duster fell off Sansa’s hand.</p><p>“He’s in the living room waiting for you.”</p><p>“Marg.”</p><p>But her friend just giggled and waved her hand. Then, she began walking away.</p><p>“I’ll be out all for the remainder of the day. Don’t wait dinner for me!”</p><p>“Wait, where are you going? Don’t you dare leave me alone with him!”</p><p>From a distance, Sansa could hear Margery’s voice:</p><p>“Relax, Sans. I think you’ll like him.”</p><p>Sansa didn’t like how it sounded. She will like him? How Marg could be so sure? Unless Sansa already knew him. No, Marg couldn’t have offered an acquaintance to pose for Sansa. Sansa had a rule: she only painted strangers, people she had no connection with. It made things easier.</p><p>She felt tempted to stay in this room until the man, whoever he was, got tired and left. But she knew she couldn’t do that. It wasn’t the man’s fault. The best she could do was to exchange a few words with him. Perhaps Marg was kidding and it wasn’t someone Sansa knew. Perhaps he even could be the perfect Hades. Who knew.</p><p>She took a deep breath and stepped out into the hallway. She walked silently, hoping to see an unfamiliar face. Her heart was hammering in her chest when she opened the door. She shut her eyes. Please, please.</p><p>When she opened her eyes, she froze.</p><p>There, sitting in an armchair, was a man she’d seen many times. A man she’d talked to. She’d even gotten in his car once.</p><p>The man uncrossed his legs and rested his forearms on his knees, slowly, and Sansa swallowed, trying to keep her eyes on his face. His lips curved then, as if he knew the effect he had on her. He was wearing a black suit, and a pale blue T-shirt that matched his eyes. He’d always been handsome, but now he looked even more handsome. The dawn sunlight streamed into the room through the window, and Sansa thought she’d like to capture this instant. But the sunlight was fleeting. She would need to work at this exact hour during several days to capture this instant.</p><p>“I’ve seen my arrival have left you speechless.” His voice sounded amused.</p><p>“Mr Baelish, I’m sorry but…”</p><p>His eyes softened.</p><p>“Petyr,” he said. “I thought we were beyond formalities.”</p><p>Sansa swallowed as a memory entered her mind:</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>It was dark outside. She was 21 and was walking to her car after class. She had returned some books to the library and hadn’t realized how late it was. There was no one else there. Her footsteps quickened. She wanted to go back to Margery's house as soon as possible.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Suddenly, a figure showed up from behind a tree. It was Joffrey. The sight made her blood freeze. What was he doing here?</i>
</p><p>
  <i>He stood beside the tree. His face twisted into a smile. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Sansa, I was waiting for you.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>She glanced at her car. If she rushed to her car now, perhaps her action caught him off guard and he couldn’t catch her.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>The sound of a car approaching her interrupted her thoughts. She turned away, and she almost cried in relief when she saw who the driver was.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Mr Baelish. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>*</i>
</p><p>
  <i>He worked for the Lannisters, like her father, but they didn’t get along very well, her father and Mr Baelish. Her mother had told Sansa that Mr Baelish had lived in the same neighborhood as her when they were kids, and that she’d considered him like her little brother, but apparently he’d fallen in love with her and had a fight with Brandon that ended up with him in the hospital. Sansa had seen him in parties hosted by the Lannisters and also in weddings and christenings since she was a child, but until she was 18 they’d barely spoken.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>The first time they had a proper conversation was some weeks after she started college. They were at a wedding. Sansa was drinking a lemon slush when she saw him stand beside her out of the corner of her eye.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“A lovely wedding,” he said, his tone cheerful.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Sansa turned to him. He was holding a watermelon slush. They were only a few inches apart, but she didn’t feel uncomfortable. She knew that her parents didn’t feel at ease around him, not after his fight with Brandon, but Sansa wasn’t born when that happened. Mr Baelish was intelligent, warm and funny. His comments often made her laugh. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Yes,” she said, offering him a smile. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>He lifted his glass and took a sip, but Sansa could see the corners of his mouth twitching.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“How have your first weeks in college gone?” he asked lowering his glass.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>During a party at Lannister’s house she’d told him that she’d gotten accepted to the Westeros Art College, and he’d asked her to let him see the portfolio she’d submitted with her acceptance letter. Of course Sansa hadn’t brought it with herself but she’d shown him some pictures she’d taken with her phone. He’d looked rather impressed and had asked her to keep him updated about her career.  His words had pleased her greatly. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Very well,” she answered excited. “It’s even better than I expected.” </i>
</p><p>
  <i>She told him about the courses she’d chosen and he asked her about her favorite painters and other inspirations. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>She’d found it very easy to talk with him. The minutes became hours and before she could realize, the wedding celebration was over and she hadn’t danced.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>She shook Mr Baelish’s hand like the other times she’d met him, but this time he leaned forward, holding her hand in his, and pressed his lips to her cheek. She could smell his cologne, a clean aroma that reminded her of fresh mint.  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>The kiss had made her chest flutter, and she’d had trouble finding her voice.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Good… good night, Mr Baelish.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Good night, Sansa.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>He hadn’t asked her to call him Petyr then. They kept meeting in social events and they kept talking about art and life in general, but he was Mr Baelish for her until the night he saved her from Joffrey.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>*</i>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <i>The driver’s door opened and Mr Baelish got out of the car. His expression was cold, but Sansa could see the fury behind his eyes. She’d never seen him like this. She wouldn’t like to be on the receiving end of that look. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>He didn’t close the door. His footsteps were slow when he approached Sansa. She felt safe.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Is there any problem?” he asked staring at Joffrey.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Joffrey huffed. He looked annoyed.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“What are you doing here, littlefinger?”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“I was about to go home, but I heard you talking on the phone when I walked past your office. You said you were going to come here to give someone a surprise. I guessed you meant Sansa, so I decided to intervene. I can imagine what kind of surprise you were referring to.” </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Sansa could hear the disdain in Mr Baelish’s voice, the anger.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“That’s not your business, you’re not her boyfriend!” Joffrey shouted.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Mr Baelish stepped forward.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“It’s actually my business and if I see you near her again or doing anything that could harm her you’ll wish you were never born. Have I been clear enough?”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Joffrey closed his fists, but beneath the anger, Sansa could see he was afraid.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Yes,” he muttered.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Sorry? I haven’t heard you, Joffrey.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“I’ve said yes!”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Good. Now, leave.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Joffrey turned away without looking at Sansa. She watched him walk away, her heart still beating fast. When Joffrey disappeared into the night, Mr Baelish turned to her. Sansa clutched her hands and walked towards him.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Mr Baelish. I don’t know how I can thank you. If you hadn’t been here…” Her voice trailed off. She stopped in front of him.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>The fury had left his face. Now he looked worried and relieved all at once. Had he feared that he wouldn’t arrive in time?</i>
</p><p>
  <i>He reached for her face. Gently, he brushed a lock of her hair from her cheek.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Call me Petyr.” </i>
</p><p>
  <i>He’d driven her home that night and he’d also walked her to the front door. He’d been a perfect gentleman, a knight in armour. That night, he’d kissed her forehead and had called sweetling for the first time:</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Good night, sweetling.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>And Sansa had felt special.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>“Petyr,” she said. She’d seen him a few times since the incident with Joffrey, but she’d avoided saying his name or his last name aloud. Petyr sounded too intimate, and Mr Baelish too formal.</p><p>She knew why she’d called him Mr Baelish only a few moments before. It had been a weak attempt to put distance between them. </p><p>He stood up and approached her. She didn’t step back. She waited for him to stop before her to ask:</p><p>“Why are you here?”</p><p>A smirk crossed his lips.</p><p>“I wanted to help you with your collection.”</p><p>Sansa crossed her arms, but she couldn’t hide a smile. She liked it when he acted playful.</p><p>“Posing naked for me?”</p><p>“Why not?” he asked, and this time his voice sounded a little husky.</p><p>Sansa bit her lower lip, and tried not to shiver. </p><p>She didn’t succeed.</p><p>She cleared her voice. She knew this was ridiculous, but the words slipped out of her mouth before she realized.</p><p>“What do you want in exchange?”</p><p>The smirk on his face widened.</p><p>“Nothing. I know this will be as rewarding for me as it will be for you. I enjoy your company so much.”</p><p>Sansa bit her lip again. She also enjoyed his company. More than she wanted to admit.</p><p>“Okay,” she said. “Are you free now?”</p><p>“Yes.” His eyes flickered.</p><p>“Okay,” she repeated awkwardly and forced herself not to stare. “Okay. Follow me, please.”</p><p>“Gladly.”</p><p>She led him to her studio. </p><p>“Forgive the chaos,” she said picking up the duster and the cleaning bucket and placing them in a corner.</p><p>“I like chaos,” he said, and Sansa couldn’t bite back a laugh.</p><p>His remark made the atmosphere lighter. Sansa turned to him and offered him a smile, thinking of all the times his comments had made her laugh. She tucked her hair behind her ear and then motioned to the folding screen.</p><p>“Well, If you’re really sure…”</p><p>“I am,” he said, but he didn’t move.</p><p>For a moment, Sansa thought he was going to take off his clothes here in front of her instead of using the folding screen. But then, he smiled at her and walked over to the folding screen.</p><p>Sansa let out her breath. Okay, she could do this. This was something strictly professional. No feelings involved.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sansa stood there awkwardly for some seconds until she realized she hadn’t put a canvas on the easel. Trying to ignore the sound of clothing being hung on the coat rack behind the folding screen, she opened the wall cupboard where she stored the blank canvas. Now she understood the gleam in Margaery’s eyes. But how had Margery guessed that Sansa was attracted to Mr Baelish? Petyr, she corrected herself. There was no point in calling him Mr Baelish in her mind anymore. Part of her still tried to convince herself that they could keep this professional, but another part knew that it was impossible. </p><p>She pulled out a canvas and closed the cupboard, feeling more confused than when she’d seen him in the living room.  </p><p>Margery had seen them talking during several social meetings. Was she so easy to read or was Margery just a very perceptive woman? Gods, Sansa hoped their parents weren’t as perceptive as her friend.</p><p>She put the canvas on the easel and glanced at the folding screen. She wished he’d finished already so she could shut off her thoughts and focus on her work.</p><p>Thinking of her collection only made her even more aware that she was about to see him naked. Gods. On second thought, she needed a few minutes more alone to try and relax. </p><p>She breathed in, and it was then when Petyr showed up from behind the folding screen.</p><p>Shit. Sansa straightened her back and forced herself to look at his face. Just look at his face. She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Also she didn’t want him to think she wasn’t capable of acting professionally. He’d offered her to help her with her collection and she’d agreed. She would paint him and they’d talk in the meantime. Sure, she’d need several sessions to finish this piece, just like she’d needed several sessions to paint Zeus, Ares, Hephaestus, Hermes and Poseidon, but before she realized the painting would be complete, and this would be just a funny anecdote (though she doubted she’d tell it at social meetings, to be honest). Anyway, one day, she’d look back and laugh remembering how she’d overthought the whole situation.</p><p><i>I know this will be as rewarding for me as it will be for you,</i> his words echoed in her mind, spreading warmth across her lower belly.</p><p>Shit.</p><p>His lips curled into a smug grin, and the flicker of his eyes told her that he could see her inner struggle. It was almost as if he could read the thoughts swirling in her head just as clearly as if she’d written them on the canvas.</p><p>A part of her wanted to smile back and take his hand. The image of Persephone willingly going to the Underworld entered her mind. A young maiden leaving the land of spring to step into the secret place beneath the depths of the earth. A young maiden taking half of a pomegranate from the god of the unseen realm’s hands, knowing that if she ate it, she’d be bound to return to him over and over again. </p><p>That part of her terrified and thrilled Sansa all at once. </p><p>“Shall we begin?” Petyr’s voice brought her out of her reverie.</p><p>She hadn’t moved from her spot since he’d showed up from behind the folding screen. She’d been comparing herself to Persephone and thinking of him as Hades, while he stood there naked and waiting for her instructions.</p><p>Great.</p><p>She blushed and averted her eyes from him.</p><p>“Yes, I… I think you should lie down."</p><p>She realized that her choice of words had been unfortunate when Petyr raised an eyebrow. She blushed harder.</p><p>"I mean, on the sofa” she hurried to say, motioning to the large sofa in the center of the room. It was white, with wooden arms. Sansa felt the need to elaborate further: "I've seen many sculptures of Hades standing up or sitting in a chair, wearing the helm of darkness and with Cerberus by his side, but I'd like to try something more intimate. I’ve also thought about painting Cerberus dozing at his feet..."</p><p>She paused when she saw his face break into a smile.</p><p>"I knew what you meant, Sansa. I was just toying with you."</p><p>The way he said it made it impossible for her to be annoyed with him. Still, she rolled her eyes. He was impossible.</p><p>"However, I'm curious about the version of Hades you'd like to portray," he added.</p><p>This time, Sansa couldn't hide her smile.</p><p>"Well, those sculptures make him look intimidating, and surely there was something intimidating about him, the god that ruled the kingdom of the dead," she explained. "Hades would probably look that way in front of his subjects or the other gods. But I'd like to show him when he's completely relaxed, when he doesn't need to keep his walls up."</p><p>"When he's alone," Petyr said. His face was serious now. He'd been listening to her with attention. </p><p>"Or with Persephone," she replied, not breaking eye contact. Her heart beat faster when she added: "Perhaps she managed to see beneath his mask, to see a part of him he kept buried for centuries, while he ruled his kingdom alone." She swallowed. The expression in Petyr's eyes had changed as she spoke. There was something intense lurking beneath his gaze, and Sansa knew without doubt that something she'd said had affected him. </p><p>"Perhaps Persephone brought back a part of him that he barely remembered," he said in a low voice. "However I don’t think it was one directional change. I think he woke up a part of her that she didn't know it was there, or that she refused to believe it was there. The part of her that craved more than what life had offered her so far. What if he didn't abduct her? What if she followed him into the Underworld?"</p><p>Now Sansa was certain that Petyr wasn't talking about Persephone. He was looking at her as if he were staring into her soul. Sansa felt exposed. It was as if she were naked and not the other way around.</p><p>"Hmm, I think we should start," she mumbled, taking her eyes off him.</p><p>Her eyes darted around the room. </p><p>The room needed more light, she decided. She approached the floor lamp beside the sofa and avoided his gaze when she walked past him. Petyr tilted his head but he remained silent. </p><p>She bent over to turn on the lamp, choosing a low intensity, careful that her dress didn’t reveal too much. She wanted it to look as if Hades was in his palace. A dim light illuminated the area around her, and she stood up again, pleased with the result. She turned around expecting to find Petyr on the same spot as before, but he was sitting down on the sofa already. When had he moved? She hadn't heard him. </p><p>She circled the sofa and stood before him. Petyr smiled at her. </p><p>She didn't allow her eyes to travel down his body yet. Instead, she asked him:</p><p>"Are you cold? Do you want me to turn up the heat?"</p><p>"I'm fine." A small smile tugged at his lips, and Sansa knew he wasn’t lying. He looked completely relaxed as if he were in his house after a long working day and were about to pour himself a drink. His knees were spread apart and his arm was resting on the wooden sofa arm. That made Sansa feel less hesitant about the whole situation. This wasn't wrong if he'd come here willingly. He must be sure about this, right?</p><p>Her gaze fell upon his hair for a moment and then she met his eyes.</p><p>"Could you make your hair look messy? It's too tidy."</p><p>Petyr gave her a chiding look and chuckled softly.</p><p>"You made it sound as if that were a bad thing, sweetling."</p><p>"No, no of course not," she said quickly. "It's just… a messy look will fit better in this case."</p><p>"I see," the amusement lingering in his eyes. “Perhaps Hades has just taken off his helmet. Does he own a horse?”</p><p>“A horse?” Sansa knitted her brow in confusion. “No that I know of. He’s associated with Owls, serpents and black rams.”</p><p>“That’s a shame.” His eyes flickered. “Though maybe a black ram will do.”</p><p>She saw that he was making an effort not to laugh.</p><p>“What do you mean?” she asked intrigued.</p><p>“Nothing. Your mention of Hades with messy hair and the fact that he uses a helmet made me think of a motorcyclist. However, there are no motorbikes in the Underworld so I thought that perhaps he likes going horse riding.”</p><p>“What?” Sansa laughed. “That’s weird.”</p><p>“Come on.” His eyes flickered again and the corners of his mouth curved upwards. “I’m just trying to give you ideas for your painting, helping you see the different pictures so you can pick your favorite.”</p><p>“And I thank you for that,” she replied, another laughter escaping her lips. “But you must agree that Hades as a motorcyclist is going too far.”</p><p>“Perhaps,” he conceded.</p><p>Then without any warning, he took her hands and tugged at her lightly. Her knees hit the sofa, and she gasped.</p><p>“Here,” he murmured, bringing her hands to his hair. “I think it’s better if it’s you who makes my hair look messy. After all, you seem to know exactly what you're looking for." </p><p>His words sent a shiver down her spine. Did he know what she wanted? Did she? Was she refusing to accept what she wanted?</p><p>“Okay.” Tentatively, she ran her hands through his gray temples. Petyr closed his eyes. His hair was so soft. Sansa hadn’t told anyone but sometimes when she’d talked to him she’d found herself wondering how it would be to caress it. Now she knew the answer.</p><p>She sucked in a breath when Petyr made a faint sound. Her body reacted right away, creating heat inside her belly, heat that seemed to rise up to her cheeks too. Sansa stopped, hoping that he didn’t open his eyes and saw her flushed face.</p><p>Her wish wasn’t granted.</p><p>Petyr lifted his head and their eyes met, her hands still buried in his hair. There was some self-restraint in his gaze, but Sansa knew that Petyr wanted to devour her, and she also knew that this was the way Hades looked at Persephone when he offered her the pomegranate seeds, the key to access every area in his kingdom, even  the most secret places, even the forbidden routes. And Sansa knew she would have been unable to refuse; she knew she would have reached out and grabbed the seed, and she wouldn’t have licked the juice when it stained the corners of her mouth. </p><p>She would have let Hades do so.</p><p>“Sansa.” Petyr’s voice sounded raspy, eager. Hungry.</p><p>“Petyr…”</p><p>“Look at me.” He placed his hands on her waist, his eyes still on hers.</p><p>“I’m looking at you,” she said, and her voice sounded a little breathless. The room was suddenly too hot. how had it occurred to her that she should turn up the heat?</p><p>“No.” His voice was barely a whisper but it echoed in her head. “So far you have only looked at my face.”</p><p>Of course. How had she thought that he wouldn’t notice? </p><p>“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” she replied.</p><p>A small smile tugged at his lips for a brief moment, and it looked as if he were touched, but then it was replaced by a devilish grin. His hands moved to her back, below her ribcage.</p><p>“If I didn’t want you to stare, I wouldn’t have volunteered for this, sweetling.”</p><p>Sansa lowered her head, a faint giggle escaping her. Petyr lifted a hand to caress her chin, a feather-light touch that made her want more. Slowly, her eyes traveled down his body. She saw his scar from his collarbone to his navel, the small curve of his belly as he was sitting down, his cock. Like the models that had posed for her, Petyr hadn’t gotten hard. Some models had told Sansa that the first minutes after they remove their clothes were always a bit unnerving. Having someone to lay their eyes on their nakes bodies for the first time made them self-conscious. Sansa didn’t stare at Petyr’s cock. She didn’t want him to feel uneasy, although she couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel to have him inside her. She tried to shut off that thought; she didn’t want her face to give away what she was thinking. </p><p>Her eyes continued traveling down.</p><p>She’d painted men of different ages; she knew the changes in body as we grew older; it was natural and there was beauty in there. Before she started college she wasn’t aware that some men felt ashamed of these changes. The wrinkles, the tummy, the grey hair. Sansa thought they had nothing to be ashamed of. As her eyes continued registering every detail in Petyr’s body, she heard him hold his breath, and knew he was worried she would be disappointed, that this wouldn’t be what she was looking for.</p><p>She couldn’t let him believe that because it wasn’t true. Her hands moved away from his hair. She raised her head and searched for his eyes as her hands cupped his face. There it was, the doubt in his eyes, though he was trying to hide it.</p><p>Sansa leaned over and brushed his face with her thumbs.</p><p>“You’re handsome,” she told him.</p><p>Petyr let out his breath.</p><p>“Sansa.”</p><p>She still saw a hint of doubt in his eyes.</p><p>“It’s true,” she insisted. She took his right hand that was still on her back. Petyr looked at her, confused. Sansa didn’t speak. She looked down at his hand and brushed her fingertips over his knuckles. She felt him shudder. His hands were slender, and she slid her fingertips down the back of his hand, tracing his veins lightly. She’d pictured herself doing that several times, caressing his hands as if they had all the time in the world, and with the sole purpose of enjoying the feel of his skin.</p><p>How could he fear that she would be disappointed? The sight of him had only made her want more. She wondered how his hands would feel on her body if she also took off her clothes. She’d thought about that too but she’d never dared to hope that one day her fantasies would become true. Gently, she released his hand and looked him in the eye. Petyr didn’t move; his walls had fallen since the moment she’d caressed his knuckles. He had beautiful eyes, and she liked it when his smile reached them. </p><p>She placed her right hand over his heart, a few inches away from his scar. He was warm, and she felt his chest rose and fell quickly. She couldn’t believe she could see him like this, unguarded. He had undressed for her. His clothes always made him look in control. Now his suit was hung on the coat rack with the rest of his clothes.</p><p>She could feel his heart beating under her palm, and her own heart pounded faster. She caressed her hair chest; it was grey and black too.</p><p>“Sansa…” Petyr swallowed thickly. She could tell he didn’t know how to react.</p><p>“You’re handsome,” she repeated.</p><p>He made a sound like a growl, and pulled her onto his lap. Sansa gasped when she lost her balance, and rested her hands on his shoulders, but he grabbed her by the waist, steadying her. Her stomach fluttered when she straddled him, her bare thighs pressing to his hips, her skin against his, and she felt grateful she’d chosen to wear a dress today. Slowly, she lifted her head, and her eyes found him. His pupils were dilated; the hunger seemed to have consumed him whole. His voice was hoarse when he spoke:</p><p>“If both parties want the same, and they just have to reach out and take it, what’s stopping them?” </p><p>“I…” She closed her mouth again.</p><p>“What’s stopping you, Sansa?”</p><p>“I… I don’t know what you want.”</p><p>He leaned forward. His breath caressed her mouth when he whispered:</p><p>“Yes. You know.”</p><p>He was right; she knew. And she wondered how they had ended up like this. If she looked back, would she be able to see the patterns leading them to this moment, leading to having him naked under her? Would she be able to understand the hidden meaning beneath their conversations, the words unspoken?</p><p>“What do you want, Sansa? Say it.” </p><p>She just had to reach out and take what she wanted, take what he was offering her.</p><p>She swallowed, her heart hammering in her chest.</p><p>“You.” It was the only word she was capable of saying before Petyr captured her mouth with his, his tongue hot and greedy, and Sansa parted her lips as eager as him, and oh, she felt as if she’d never been kissed before. His stubble grazed at her lips and chin, as his mouth moved, and it felt so good that she would have fallen off his lap if he weren’t still holding her. Now she knew without doubt that what she’d shared with Joffrey weren’t kisses. This. This was a real kiss. Now she understood what sexual tension and chemistry meant. Now she knew what it was to leave the land of spring and enter the Underworld. To accept the fruit you weren’t supposed to taste. To taste it knowing there was no going back. To love the fact that there was no point of return.</p><p>She moaned against his mouth and felt him shudder.</p><p>“Sansa.” He broke the kiss and nibbled at her jawline, and she moaned again when his lips found her pulse point on her neck.</p><p>She felt him harden against her inner thigh. She closed her eyes. Giving in to temptation had never felt so good.</p><p>“More, please,” she begged.</p><p>She felt his hands on her cheeks, his touch gentle this time. She opened her eyes. Petyr’s breath was ragged, and she could tell he was trying to regain his self-control. </p><p>“What do you want?” he asked.</p><p>Her voice didn’t tremble when she said:</p><p>"I want to be your Persephone tonight." <i>And many other nights, if you wish.</i></p><p>“Are you sure?" He was gauging her reaction.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Sansa.” He caressed her cheek then. “Are you a virgin?”</p><p>“Yes,” she answered.</p><p>Petyr looked as if he were expecting that answer. His tone sounded resigned when he said:</p><p>“I’m afraid I don’t have any condoms.”</p><p>Sansa smiled.</p><p>“It’s alright. Margaery gives me condom packs from time to time,” she told him. The first time Marg had given one Sansa had protested, but Mar had insisted, saying that you never knew when you could need them. Now Sansa had to agree with her.</p><p>Petyr’s eyes widened for a moment, but soon a playful smile crossed his lips.</p><p>“Ah, Margaery. I’ve always liked her.”</p><p>Sansa giggled and moved off his lap.</p><p>“I’ll go fetch them. I’ll be right back,” she said.</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>She rushed to her bedroom, leaving behind her the blank canvas. Considering how things were going so far, it seemed unlikely that she would paint him today. Unless that he stayed for the night. The thought made her grin. She opened the drawer where she kept the condom packs Marg had given her and checked the expiration date before picking one. She returned to her studio.</p><p>Petyr was waiting for her, leaning back on the sofa, with his legs spread wide and a wicked smile on his face.</p><p>The perfect Hades, she thought approaching him.</p><p>“Did you miss me?” she asked.</p><p>His smile widened.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>She placed the pack on the sofa beside him before sliding onto his lap. He put his arms around her waist.</p><p>“Tsk tsk. Do you think it’s fair that Hades in naked and Persephone still wears all her clothes?” he asked playfully.</p><p>“You’re right.” She took his hands and placed them on the hem of her dress. “Perhaps you might help with that.”</p><p>“It will be my pleasure,” he said, though instead of pulling up her dress, he moved his hands to her knees.</p><p>Sansa shivered. </p><p>“Have you ever thought about this, sweetling?” he asked as his hands slid up to her inner thighs. He stopped before touching her underwear. “Have you ever pictured me like this, touching every inch of your body?” His hands traveled across her ribcage and Sansa inhaled deeply. He stopped when his thumbs were only a few inches from her breasts, and she bit her lip, almost groaning in frustration. She wanted him to continue. </p><p>“Tell me, Sansa. I want to hear you.” His tone sounded light, playful.</p><p>“Yes,” she confessed.</p><p>His hands moved down then, following the same path he’d used to ascend. He grabbed the hem of her dress and this time he pulled it up. Sansa lifted her arms, and soon her dress was on the opposite side of the sofa, as forgotten as the canvas.</p><p>“Beautiful,” he murmured leaning forward. He kissed her neck and her collarbone, and pressed his hands to her back to steady her before brushing his lips over her belly. </p><p>Sansa wrapped her arms around his shoulders and clung to him as if the floor was rocking beneath their feet.</p><p>“Petyr.” She gasped when he nibbled the spot under her navel.</p><p>He groaned before planting a kiss on her waist. He sat up straight and claimed her mouth once more, and Sansa shivered hard. She had never thought she would be so responsive to a man’s touch. Petyr kissed the spot under her jawline again as his right hand slid up her back.</p><p>“May I?” he whispered in her ear.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>He moved his other hand away from her back to unhook her bra. He removed it slowly, almost reverently. She’d never been bare before a man, but she didn’t feel the urge to cover herself. </p><p>Her bra fell onto her dress, and Petyr leaned back. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then Sansa looked at his face, and saw there was a dazed expression in his eyes.</p><p>“It should be me who painted you,” he murmured in awe. He lifted his hands and caressed the sides of her breasts, and Sansa arched her back.</p><p>“More, please,” she said.</p><p>His hands cupped her breasts, and he began massaging them.</p><p>“Is this what you want?” he asked.</p><p>Her nipples hardened under his touch almost instantly. His hands felt even better than she’d imagined, and she writhed on his lap.</p><p>“More.”</p><p>“Hmm greedy girl.” He leaned forward and took a nipple in his mouth.</p><p>“Petyr.”</p><p>He licked and sucked, sending jolts to her belly and between her legs.</p><p>“Petyr.” She needed more. More. The ache she felt was almost unbearable and she knew her underwear was soaked. </p><p>He pulled away only to give her a passionate kiss on her mouth. She cupped his face and reciprocated it. She broke the kiss to say:</p><p>“Please, I want you.” She placed his hands on her underwear, and Petyr removed it gladly.</p><p>Now she was naked at last. She looked down at his cock and saw the precum. She’d never seen a cock fully hard before. It almost seemed impossible that he could fit.</p><p>“Sansa.” He caressed her cheek. She met his eyes. “Are you sure you want this?”</p><p>“Yes,” she said. She lifted a hand and ran it through his left temple. “And you?”</p><p>“Gods, yes,” he answered.</p><p>Sansa beamed.</p><p>“Then, what are we waiting for?” she asked.</p><p>He smiled and gave her a peck on the lips.</p><p>“Alright,” he said, shifting to grab a condom. </p><p>Sansa watched him roll it on. </p><p>“Would you like to try this position?” he asked then, looking her in the eye. “You would set the pace.”</p><p>“Okay.” It sounded good.</p><p>“Good. “You’re in control. I’m your Hades and you can corrupt me all you want,” he said, his eyes shining playfully.</p><p>Sansa laughed.</p><p>“Wasn’t it the other way around?” she asked.</p><p>“Who knows what version is true?” he asked in return.</p><p>“Okay, Hades.” She threaded her hands through his hair.</p><p>Petyr tilted his head, amused.</p><p>"Wasn't my hair enough disheveled yet?" he asked.</p><p>"Hmm… There's always room for improvement," she replied trying to hide her smile.</p><p>Petyr tickled her ribcage, making her laugh.</p><p>"Such a wicked girl," he said and although he pressed his lips together, he couldn't suppress a smirk. </p><p>"Petyr!" She laughed again. She placed her hands on his shoulders. She breathed in and began rubbing on his cock. The pleasure built inside her quickly. It felt too good to stop, and Petyr also seemed to be enjoying this, so she continued until the waves crashed over her, and her toes curled. She shut her eyes until her body relaxed. When she opened her eyes again, Petyr smiled at her. He was breathing through his mouth.</p><p>“How are you feeling?” he asked.</p><p>“Good.” her face lit up. She looked down and stroked him gently.</p><p>“Sansa.” His body trembled.</p><p>“I think I’m ready,” she said. “How about you?”</p><p>“Me too,” he answered, and his voice sounded strained.</p><p>“Okay.” She breathed in and began lowering herself onto his cock. She felt her inner muscles stretching. She tensed when she felt a bit of pain, and Petyr stilled her.</p><p>“Slowly,” he said, and kissed her neck and her earlobe. His hand moved to massage her clit. “There’s no rush, sweetling.”</p><p>Gradually it stopped hurting, and Sansa continued. Petyr kept his eyes on hers, and only his gaze alone was making this look so sinful and delicious. She could feel him tremble from time to time, and knew he was making a great effort not to grip her waist hard. She was going slower than when she’d started, and she wasn’t feeling any pain. An odd thought entered her mind: How long would have taken Persephone to arrive in the Underworld? The thought made her grin, and she saw Petyr raise an eyebrow, but he didn’t speak. Controlling his breath and remaining still seemed all he could manage to do right now.</p><p>When she finished, Petyr’s face contorted in what looked like pain, but before Sansa could ask him if he was alright, he pulled her closer. She felt his breath, hot and ragged, when he groaned into her neck.</p><p>“Fuck. You’re so tight.”</p><p>His voice sent a jolt between her legs but it also made Sansa giggle. She wrapped her arms around his body without realizing. Her breast pressed to his chest. She liked this embrace. She was as close as him as she could, and it felt right. Her body was adjusting to him; they were getting used to the feel of each other.</p><p>It was Petyr who pulled back.</p><p>“Are you alright?” he asked.</p><p>“Yes. How about you?”</p><p>“Oh, I’m great. Just trying not to come too fast,” he said in a joking tone.</p><p>Sansa giggled and kissed his face.</p><p>“It’s alright. We can always repeat this, if you like,” she said in a light tone, but she knew she’d also sounded hopeful.</p><p>Petyr’s eyes darkened.</p><p>“Oh, yes,” he growled.</p><p>Sansa shivered and she clenched around him involuntarily, making him groan. At the same time, something fluttered in her chest. The flicker of hope seemed to grow, like a flame under an open sky.</p><p>“May I move?” she asked.</p><p>“Yes,” he said. </p><p>She began rocking her hips experimentally, rising and falling, and felt his hands gripping her waist harder than before. She watched his face. He had tightened his jaw.</p><p>“Am I hurting you?” she asked.</p><p>“Gods, no.” He laughed, and his face relaxed for an instant. “You’re perfect.”</p><p>She knew he probably liked a faster and harder pace, but she accepted his praise all the same. Soon she felt more confident and began rocking her hips faster, but she needed more friction. Petyr tilted his head back, shuddering. He hadn’t moved yet, and she knew he was waiting for her permission.</p><p>“Please,” she moaned. “I need more.” </p><p>He didn’t wait for her to ask twice. Groaning, he thrusted up, gentler than she’d expected considering how desperate he looked. A tingling sensation spread across the spot he’d rubbed. It was fast and fleeting; a sign of how amazing this would feel if they moved in unison. If she stopped thinking and just felt.</p><p>“Oh, yes,” she moaned. “More. More.”</p><p>“Like this?” He did again. And again, and again. His thrusts were slow, but more forceful than the first. Every time he pulled out, he breathed out. The sound was harsh and erotic, and Sansa didn’t want him to stop.</p><p>“Oh, yes.” There, Petyr. There. Oh, faster. Please.”</p><p>He groaned as if all this were too much. An Hades that tempted his Persephone and ended up to her mercy. His hands moved down to grab her ass, and he pounded into her. Sansa saw stars.</p><p>“Is this what my wicked girl wants?” he asked panting. “Does she like how I’m fucking her?”</p><p>“Oh, yes. Don’t stop. Don’t stop, please. I’m almost there.”</p><p>He chuckled, though it was more like a shaky sound against her throat, but he didn’t stop. The pleasure was building so fast, and she was teetering over the edge. She’d never felt something so intense in her life, and she almost feared she wouldn’t survive this.</p><p>“Petyr.” She clung to him, trembling in his arms.</p><p>“I’m here,” he said. Sansa felt herself clenching around him, and he felt it too because he cursed. “That’s it, sweetling. Let it happen. My wicked girl. My Persephone.”</p><p>That name was the last word she heard before the bliss washed over her. She cried out and buried her face in the crook of his neck. Petyr followed her just a few seconds later, her name leaving his lips after a deep and powerful thrust. He softened inside her. Without wasting any time, he pulled her closer in another embrace. They both were shaking.</p><p>Any coherent thoughts seemed to have vanished from her mind as she waited for her breath to return to normal, though she was glad he hadn’t pulled out and moved away from her. His hug made her feel comforted.</p><p>She smiled when she felt his hand caressing her head.</p><p>“Are you alright?” he murmured.</p><p>She pulled back to look at his face. Petyr stared into her eyes, and he even looked more unguarded than before, when she’d brushed her fingertips over his knuckles.</p><p>“Yes,” she said. “How about you? Was it good?”</p><p>His face lit up. He cupped her face and gave her a peck on the lips.</p><p>“It was perfect, Sansa. Perfect.”</p><p>She beamed and touched his forehead with hers. She enjoyed his proximity for a few seconds more before realizing that perhaps she was too heavy and his legs had gone numb. She looked at him and offered him another smile.</p><p>“I’m going to stand up, okay?”</p><p>“Okay.” He reached down to take his cock as she lifted, so the condom didn’t slip off.</p><p>He rose to his feet as well.</p><p>“Where is the bathroom?” he asked.</p><p>“There are two bathrooms. You can use the one next to my room, and I’ll use the other one. Come. I’ll escort you.” She smiled again and took his hand.</p><p>Later they returned to the studio. They both were still naked. </p><p>Sansa clasped her hands and looked at him, hesitant.</p><p>“Margaery told me she’d arrive late,” she began. “We still have some time to work on the painting, and afterwards we can eat dinner together, if you like.” He could stay for the night, but Sansa didn’t know if he wanted to. Perhaps sleeping next to her wasn’t in his plans.</p><p>A smile tugged at his lips.</p><p>“I’d love to sweetling.”</p><p>She bit her lip. Her heart quickened. <i>Ask him</i>, she told herself.</p><p>“Petyr.”</p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>“What do you want?”</p><p>He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he came closer and wrapped his arms around her waist. His gesture gave her hope, but Sansa breathed in, waiting for him to answer. She didn’t want to interpret his actions or the hidden meanings beneath the words he spoke. She needed to hear him speak frankly.</p><p>“I want everything you’re willing to offer me, Sansa,” he said finally, and the pressure she’d felt in the pit of her stomach vanished.</p><p>Her face lit up. She ran her hands through his hair and asked:</p><p>“Then, would you like to stay for the night?”</p><p>He grinned.</p><p>“Nothing would please me more, sweetling.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I wanted this to be funny and sexy, but then the fic did what it wanted and turned out sweet. Well, guys, I tried lol. I hope you enjoy it regardless. If not, I hope this help you come up with a version to your liking. Thank you so much for your kudos and comments on chapter 1. They made me very happy :-)</p>
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